


190. Trading heartbeats

by tveckling



Series: Dare to Write challenge [28]
Category: Romeo And Juliet - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, M/M, Mysterious dystopian post-apocalyptic societies must have hospitals, Sappy Ending, Secret Relationship, no one dies, well now the cat's out of the bag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-12 05:55:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7923148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tveckling/pseuds/tveckling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The duel happens, the blade hits its unintended target, but after that the story is changed. Thanks to quick thinking no one dies, although Mercutio must spend quite some time recovering and the rest of the youths have a lot to explain. Now Tybalt comes to visit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	190. Trading heartbeats

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kecchan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kecchan/gifts).



It had taken some time and a lot of groveling from Tybalt to make the nurses let him into Mercutio's room, and he had a suspicion that hadn't Benvolio vouched for him he would have been chased away. Even as he closed the door behind his back he could feel their hard stares in his back. Not that he blamed them, not for one second. If he had been in their position he wouldn't have wanted him anywhere near Mercutio either; he had been the one to put Mercutio in the hospital bed in the first place, after all.

With the door closed the noise from outside lessened and the room got quiet. Too quiet. Tybalt could hear his own heartbeats, a drumming sound in his ears that seemed to grow louder and louder. His hand clenched, reaching for the safe weight of his sword in his belt—only to remember that he had put his sword away. For all time, he had decided. He would never again risk a repeat of what had happened, and the thought of what might have happened still made him wake up in the middle of the night, a scream stuck in his throat.

Over in the bed Mercutio lied so still. The white bedclothes, the white walls and floor, the white clothes they had dressed him in, white, white, white. It was surrounding him, making him seem so much smaller, so less lifelike. Was he usually that pale? He hadn't moved since Tybalt came into the room, but that had to be because he was sleeping, nothing else. If there was something wrong then the nurses wouldn't have just left him alone.

But it was so quiet. He was so still.

Tybalt should walk closer, than he would be able to clearly see if there was something wrong. It was so simple, just a few steps.

_He was so pale._

Just a few steps.

It would only take a few seconds.

_Red hair on white pillow, red on white, blood on shirt. Blood._

Tybalt couldn't breathe. The drumming was louder, louder than anything else.

_There was so much blood._

He couldn't tear away his eyes.

_He wasn't moving, he wasn't moving, he wasn't-_

"What are you doing? I can hear your breathing all the way over here."

Tybalt jerked, feeling as though he had been slapped. Over in the bed Mercutio slowly turned his face, raising an eyebrow at Tybalt. He really was pale.

"Are you just going to stare at me? I don't blame you, since I am certainly worth all your admiration, but could it perchance wait until after we're somewhere else? All white really isn't my color and if you're going to stare I prefer to wear something more flattering clothes. Or none at all." Mercutio's voice was weak and strained, the cheer in it forced, but he was talking. He was alive.

Tybalt blinked. He opened his mouth but couldn't think of something to say. A chuckle made its way out of his throat instead, then another, and another, each coming with more strength than the last. Suddenly he was laughing, and he couldn't stop. His steps were shaky as he made his way over to the bed, each step watched by Mercutio's confused frown. He fell into the chair rather than sat down, and hid his face in his hands. Why couldn't he stop laughing?

"I see lunacy has taken hold of you," Mercutio commented idly.

Tybalt took a deep breath, then another, and looked up.

A beat.

"You're alive."

Mercutio's look of slight irritation abated and he smiled, nothing more than a twist of his lips. He looked tired. "Yeah."

"You're here, and awake, and breathing, and _alive_."

"Yeah."

Tybalt reached out and gently took Mercutio's hand. There was no resistance, so he brought it to his lips and carefully kissed the knuckles. Mercutio's huff of amusement was easier than ever to ignore, and he closed his eyes.

"I thought I had killed you," he said.

"You didn't."

"I almost did. If it hadn't been for that Mo- Benvolio's quick thinking you would have died. I would have killed you."

"But you didn't." Mercutio's voice was soft and patient. In any other situation he would have already turned to annoyance, Tybalt knew, and he couldn't help smiling at the thought.

He looked up and searched Mercutio's face for—for what, he didn't know. Something. Hatred. Blame. "I didn't want to hurt you." He needed him to know that. "I never, ever wanted that. Even if I was angry—at you, at myself, at everyone else—I didn't mean to do it."

"I know." Mercutio's smile widened and the spark in his eyes told Tybalt that he would have grinned widely if he'd had the energy. "We might've had a particularly nasty fight just some days ago, but I never thought it was serious enough for you to want to kill me over. Couples argue all the time, but rarely do they try to kill one another over a simple spat."

"I was just... upset." Tybalt looked away, shame filling every part of his body as he remembered how thoughtless he had been.

"So I noticed," Mercutio answered dryly.

"Has anyone, uh, told you about what happened?" Tybalt found it was much easier to study Mercutio's hand, turning it upside-down and following the lines in the palm, than look up in his face.

For once Mercutio was merciful and didn't force Tybalt to tell the whole story. "Benvolio has told me," he said. "I have also had a visit from Romeo and Julia. They are a delightful couple, the two of them. I understand why they angered you so; they were so nauseatingly happy and in love I wanted to throw Romeo out the window. Or at least puke on him."

Tybalt snorted and raised his eyes. Mercutio's smile almost took his breath away, and he pressed his forehead against the hand in his. His eyes were aching, but he determinedly ignored it. "I am so sorry."

"You shouldn't be. Without your temper we wouldn't have had this exciting adventure." Mercutio cleared his throat and averted his eyes from Tybalt's look. "I suppose I should also, that is, Ben told me I should, you know, uh... apologize. For riling you up, before and during the fight. Which, I suppose, is true. I guess. So. I'm sorry."

Tybalt shook his head. "No, you shouldn't apologize for that. It's just who you are, and I wouldn't except anything else, especially not when we are angry at each other. This is all my fault, since I was the one who refused to tell the truth and put my reputation before us. I am so, so sorry."

Mercutio chuckled and reached over with his free hand, wincing when he moved too sharply, and patted Tybalt's cheek. "Is this where I apologize for pushing you about it in the first place? I suppose I can do that, but then this apologizing would never stop, because we have both been idiots for a long time. That, for your information, is Benvolio's words, not mine. But I agree with him." Mercutio's smile disappeared and he pulled his hand back, laying it on top of his stomach. "I take it our secret is out now, though. I am sorry about that. How- your family? How have they taken it? Benvolio couldn't tell me that."

"There's not much to talk about there. I guess everything else that happened has been more important than the reveal about our relationship, because I have barely heard a word about it. Every lecture and serious talk has been about our duel and the events leading up to it." Tybalt sighed heavily. "I have no doubt in my mind that it will become an important subject to talk about soon enough, as soon as my aunt and uncle have gotten used to the idea of Julia being, ugh, married to that Romeo. What I will say when the time finally comes is a mystery."

"Know that whatever happens I'll be there to support you." Mercutio pulled lightly at the hand being clenched in Tybalt's, but he shook his head with a smile when Tybalt immediately let go of it. "No, that's not what I meant. That chair looks so uncomfortable, while this bed is very soft. Come up here."

Tybalt froze. He could feel his eyes widen and his face seemed suddenly much warmer, which surely was what caused Mercutio's laughter. When the laughter turned into a coughing fit Tybalt was quickly up on his feet, secretly happy to have something else take the attention away from him. As he bent over Mercutio he hesitated, uncertain about what he should do or even if he should do something. The fit stopped before he could make a decision, and instead he watched with worried eyes as Mercutio lied down again with a pained expression.

"Seriously," Mercutio muttered, "get down here and cuddle me."

"Are you-" Tybalt closed his mouth at Mercutio's glare and did as told, careful to avoid disturbing Mercutio more than necessary. He shouldn't have bothered, because as soon as he had lied down Mercutio squirmed closer—wincing every so often and making Tybalt want to panic—until he could push his face into Tybalt's neck. When he had finally stopped moving Tybalt carefully put his arms around him.

"Now don't you move," came Mercutio's muffled voice. "I'm going to sleep, and you had better be here when I wake up again."

"I won't move," Tybalt promised and closed his eyes.

He could hear Mercutio's breathing, feel his heartbeats, and he tried to breathe in and out at the same time. The drumming in his ears was still there, but it was accompanied by a second beat, and that made all the difference. He was, for the first time in days, completely at ease.


End file.
